


The One With Gingerbread and Dean's Bathrobe

by sconesandtextingandmurder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconesandtextingandmurder/pseuds/sconesandtextingandmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could there possibly be left to do?  They’d gone and cut their own Christmas tree that now stood in the corner, decorated within an inch of its life.  They’d baked and frosted and decorated sugar cookies.  Each of them had a personalized stocking hanging from the mantel.  They’d made eggnog from scratch (ok, fine, freshly ground nutmeg did make a difference)....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With Gingerbread and Dean's Bathrobe

Dean woke slowly from his nap, the scent of gingerbread drifting near him. He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Cas was perched on the arm of the couch near his feet, staring at him. His hair was still damp from his shower. That explained the hint of spicy baked goods.

“The sun will set at 5:12 this afternoon.”

“No,” Dean said and pulled a pillow over his own face.

“Any time after that would be fine.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what he wants to do,” said Sam, reasonably, from the armchair. “How can you say no already?”

What could there possibly be left to do? They’d gone and cut their own Christmas tree that now stood in the corner, decorated within an inch of its life. They’d baked and frosted and decorated sugar cookies. Each of them had a personalized stocking hanging from the mantel. They’d made eggnog from scratch (ok, fine, freshly ground nutmeg _did_ make a difference). For God’s sake, there was a bottle of glitter-filled, gingerbread scented body wash in the shower. But Cas kept watching Christmas movies and finding more things to try.

“You’ll like this one, Dean.”

“No.”

“All you have to do is drive.”

Dean uncovered one eye and regarded the angel warily.

“I want to drive around and look at Christmas lights.”

“That would actually be sort of fun, “ said Sam, carefully avoiding Dean’s eyes and the look in them that said _traitor_.

Dean knew he was outnumbered. “Fine,” he muttered into the pillow. Cas smiled.

“Also, we will need a thermos of hot cocoa.”

****  
At 3:00 Cas came into the room holding a piece of paper.

“I assume the best lights will be where there are families with children, so I made a list of the closest elementary schools in the area. Let me know if you need further driving directions.” He handed the paper to Dean and walked away.

“That makes sense if you think about it,” said Sam.

“You are not helping,” said Dean.

*****

At exactly 5:12 Cas appeared in the kitchen. He was dressed in pajama pants, a blue t-shirt that matched his eyes, and Dean’s bathrobe. Sam smiled broadly at the sight of him while Dean turned his back, took a deep, cleansing breath and rubbed at his twitching eyelid.

“Nope.” Sam said and Dean turned back around at the sudden objection. Sam was looking at Cas’ feet.

“Absolutely not,” said Dean. “Real shoes in the car.”

“It’s a safety thing,” Sam explained as Dean nodded. Sam reeled off the list their father had taught them long ago. “No slippers, flip flops, or bare feet in the car. “ You never knew when you’d have to get out and run.

Before Cas could go switch out of those ridiculous unicorn slippers (a gift from Sam), Dean stopped him.

“And if you get so much as one drop of cocoa on my bathrobe, you’ll be riding out the rest of the holiday season as a tree-topper somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.”

Cas padded away and Dean turned to see the Bitchface™ being sent his way. “What? I really like that bathrobe.”

“Then why don’t you just tell him he can’t wear it?”

“Why don’t you just mind your own stupid business?” Oh, good one, Dean. Another A+ comeback. So what if the next time he put on the bathrobe it would carry the faint scent of gingerbread and be flecked with glitter? What a man did with his own bathrobe was his own damn business.

Dean went back to mashing the potatoes for dinner. A few moments later Cas was again in the kitchen, real shoes on his feet this time.

“Should I bring a blanket? I might fall asleep in the car.”

“Oh my GOD. We’re going BEFORE dinner!” yelled Dean.

“You can never be too prepared, Cas. I’ll get you a pillow just in case,” Sam offered.

Dean glared at his brother. “Enabler.”

“Grinch.”

Dean put the components of dinner into the fridge for later and they all loaded into the Impala. Sam maneuvered his long limbs into the front, tucking the bag with the thermos near his feet. Dean started up the engine, switched on the radio, and hit the button for station number three. Christmas carols filled the air.

“You’ve got the Christmas station pre-set?”

“Just shut up, Sam.”

Dean headed towards the first elementary school on the list. They’d never done this as kids, of course, at least not intentionally. But there were times they’d been moving from one town to the next when holiday decorations were up. Sam loved the over-the-top lights, ones you could probably see from space, but Dean had always been drawn to those houses with a single electric candlestick in each window. Sam had called it boring, but to Dean the simplicity created warmth. It made every house, no matter how big or small, look welcoming and complete.

He glanced over his shoulder. Cas looked content, a pillow between his head and the door frame, a blanket on his lap. They drove in silence, Christmas music the only accompaniment to their thoughts. They’d covered all the neighborhoods on Cas’ list and Dean drove far enough out of the last one so that they could pull over without looking like a car full of perverts. Sam reached for the thermos and the cups. Dean heard him scrabbling around in the bag.

“Shit. I forgot the marshmallows.”

Dean sighed and reached under his seat. “You guys want regular or mini?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a Jew
> 
> Married to a Hindu
> 
> And I'm writing Destiel Christmas Fluff
> 
> Yeah, I don't know what that means either


End file.
